When I was growing up my family wasn't rich. That's not to say we were poor. We always had name brand Kraft dinner and Koolaid. My Momma is an advocate for buying the products with accountability. None of that yellow pack No Name shenanigans. Unlike my neighbor who's mother made her eat homemade Mac and cheese- eww, poor thing. Being from a family with such high standards, it was hard for me to hear: No. And it was even worse hearing it when I really wanted something.
I used to think/wish/dream that if I was playing with a toy in a store somebody would see me; think I was adorable and give me that toy. Just give it to me. You know the way special and amazing things happen to everyday average people. Especially middle class blonde haired children from small town Ontario. It's supposed to happen all the time. It never did. Remember when Cabbage Patch kids were all the rage? I sure do. I loved my Norma Betsy in her blue corduroy overalls and sandy brown braids. We were inseparable- except if I was playing outside, she wasn't allowed out; she'd get dirty. My macaroni neighbour had 2 Cabbage Patch kids and I only had Norma Betsy. Life just wasn't fair.
Is there a parent out there who likes Toys'R'us? It was an exercise in patience for my parents I suspect. My little Brother knowing the only reason we went to Kitchener was to drive by the chicken giving the thumbs up to the toysrus- the way he said it sounded more like a dinosaur than a toy store- though either would've been cool.
While shopping I began pestering my Momma. Starting softly and steadily increasing my whining towards an 11. Momma telling me; "No. No-for the last time, ask me again and we're going straight home." I skulked off. Back to the Cabbage Patch aisle; the only place I was understood and among friends. Starring at their smiling chubby faces behind the shiny cellophane I started daydreaming: My Momma realizing the error of her ways collects my brother from the bike, trike and scooter aisle. Pulling him against his will, telling him: 'Your sister needs to have a little brother or sister for Norma Betsy. It was a beautiful dream until suddenly there was a pair of hands reaching past me; towards the wall of dolls, selecting a beautiful redhead with curls and 2 front teeth. With a quick inhale I let out a shriek! Joy! Surprise! Sweet and wonderful and all things great! I am twirling and I reach out for this hand- exclaiming "Oh yes! She's so pretty! She's perfect." Taking hold of that hand I turn to find strangers. STRANGERS! The worst thing in the whole wide world and I am holding hands with one. I snatch my 8 year old hand away from an equally surprised woman and start running down the aisle. Finding my Momma and Bro exactly where I knew they would be. Flushed and embarrassed and a bit scared I take Momma by the hand- a hand I know. Promptly bursting into unexplained tears. I didn't leave her side for the rest of the day; worried that strange woman would find us and tell on me.
That day I went home with a tight chest. Sitting in the backseat of our Taurus I couldn't even be bothered to keep my Bro off my side. I could have been an orphan like those Cabbage Patch kids- waiting for a home, but I wasn't. I had a Momma and a Papa and a Bro and Norma Betsy! I couldn't leave them. I still didn't have as many dolls as my Macaroni neighbour, but at least I didn't have to go home with new parents. Oh yeah, 2 months after this traumatic day, on my birthday Norma Betsy and I welcomed Austin Merle to our teeny family. A preemie brother whose bald head smelled of plastic and baby powder in a sea-foam green flannel onesie. It's true, you can't always get what you want but if you try sometimes, you just might find- you get what you already had... and a preemie. It turned out for the best, Norma Betsy has never really been a fan of redheads anyways;)
I used to think/wish/dream that if I was playing with a toy in a store somebody would see me; think I was adorable and give me that toy. Just give it to me. You know the way special and amazing things happen to everyday average people. Especially middle class blonde haired children from small town Ontario. It's supposed to happen all the time. It never did. Remember when Cabbage Patch kids were all the rage? I sure do. I loved my Norma Betsy in her blue corduroy overalls and sandy brown braids. We were inseparable- except if I was playing outside, she wasn't allowed out; she'd get dirty. My macaroni neighbour had 2 Cabbage Patch kids and I only had Norma Betsy. Life just wasn't fair.
Is there a parent out there who likes Toys'R'us? It was an exercise in patience for my parents I suspect. My little Brother knowing the only reason we went to Kitchener was to drive by the chicken giving the thumbs up to the toysrus- the way he said it sounded more like a dinosaur than a toy store- though either would've been cool.
While shopping I began pestering my Momma. Starting softly and steadily increasing my whining towards an 11. Momma telling me; "No. No-for the last time, ask me again and we're going straight home." I skulked off. Back to the Cabbage Patch aisle; the only place I was understood and among friends. Starring at their smiling chubby faces behind the shiny cellophane I started daydreaming: My Momma realizing the error of her ways collects my brother from the bike, trike and scooter aisle. Pulling him against his will, telling him: 'Your sister needs to have a little brother or sister for Norma Betsy. It was a beautiful dream until suddenly there was a pair of hands reaching past me; towards the wall of dolls, selecting a beautiful redhead with curls and 2 front teeth. With a quick inhale I let out a shriek! Joy! Surprise! Sweet and wonderful and all things great! I am twirling and I reach out for this hand- exclaiming "Oh yes! She's so pretty! She's perfect." Taking hold of that hand I turn to find strangers. STRANGERS! The worst thing in the whole wide world and I am holding hands with one. I snatch my 8 year old hand away from an equally surprised woman and start running down the aisle. Finding my Momma and Bro exactly where I knew they would be. Flushed and embarrassed and a bit scared I take Momma by the hand- a hand I know. Promptly bursting into unexplained tears. I didn't leave her side for the rest of the day; worried that strange woman would find us and tell on me.
That day I went home with a tight chest. Sitting in the backseat of our Taurus I couldn't even be bothered to keep my Bro off my side. I could have been an orphan like those Cabbage Patch kids- waiting for a home, but I wasn't. I had a Momma and a Papa and a Bro and Norma Betsy! I couldn't leave them. I still didn't have as many dolls as my Macaroni neighbour, but at least I didn't have to go home with new parents. Oh yeah, 2 months after this traumatic day, on my birthday Norma Betsy and I welcomed Austin Merle to our teeny family. A preemie brother whose bald head smelled of plastic and baby powder in a sea-foam green flannel onesie. It's true, you can't always get what you want but if you try sometimes, you just might find- you get what you already had... and a preemie. It turned out for the best, Norma Betsy has never really been a fan of redheads anyways;)
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